“It doesn’t matter,” she says. “It would have been better if they weren’t found together because they both tie back to my brother. The whole point was to implicate Emert, not Charles.”
“Why do you have such a hard-on for framing that old man? That’s the one piece I never understood.”
“Because that old fart almost bankrupted my family fifteen years ago. We had to fight it out in court and the judge forced a settlement where we only got fifty percent of the land we bought. I’ve been looking for ways to get back at him since. If you hadn’t buried the bodies together then we would’ve been okay. You took what would have been a tenuous link at best and doubled it by planting two bodies that both linked back to my brother.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. This sister of Brennan must be a certifiable evil genius, because the things she’s saying involve some next-level strategy. I’m up against a genius-level serial killer, I think to myself.
“So why did you want to grab this one?” the man asks.
There is a long silence before the woman answers, “Because she’s testifying against my brother. If we can somehow manage to get him free of the murder charges, that will be a goddam miracle. But all the stupid things he did when he was running from the law will still be hanging over his head. Do you think thegood citizens of Cedar Falls will want a mayor whose brother is a home invader and arsonist?”
The man answers, “No, of course not. We’re doing the right thing by protecting your family name. You shouldn’t have to suffer because Charles can’t stop fucking up his life from top to bottom.”
I can hear footsteps that sound like someone in heels pacing. I stretch my fingers because they’re losing circulation.
Charlotte continues with her rant. “He was supposed to disappear,” she states with no small amount of frustration in her voice. “I moved heaven and earth to get the judge to remove him from house arrest. He was supposed to take the cash I gave him and leave. Without a trial and conviction, everything to do with him would just be a rumor, one I could spin in our favor as him being innocent. Or maybe even by suggesting that whoever killed the two women came back for him. I could have made the public sympathetic enough to vote for me.”
The man speaks, “I know Charles is a brainless frat boy and wannabe wilderness explorer, but why do you think he stayed when he could have fucked off to wherever in the world struck his fancy? Why go back to that cabin and burn it to the ground? That’s the part that doesn’t make sense.”
Charlotte’s response floors me. “Because my brother always becomes obsessed with women he can’t have. He’s never been able to take no for an answer.”
“That’s seriously fucked up.”
Her voice rises and something thunks against the wall, like maybe she threw it. “And who do you think gets stuck clearing up the mess every single damn time?”
“You do,” he answers. “And now we have a witness willing to keep the story of what he did to her alive in the minds of potential voters, right?”
“Yes. She’s a problem. Her and those fucking bikers. That’s why the poor idiot is sitting in jail right now instead of making a new life for himself somewhere far from here.”
My stomach twists as all the pieces of the puzzle settle into place. Charles is an idiot, but his sister is the mastermind. Does he even know what she did? I remember his protestations the day he terrorized me. At the time it sounded like the ramblings of a madman, but in hindsight, he was right. Someone was setting him up.
Even if his sister had actually been trying to help him in her own warped and twisted way.
I think of Onyx, Christina, and the baby she was meant to welcome into the world. And of how close I came to being buried in the woods with the others, and how if I’m not really careful, I just might end up buried somewhere else.
My mind begins spinning with ideas about how to keep myself alive for just one more day. I don’t know how Onyx and his club brothers will find me. I just have to hope that they figure it all out.
I’m still trying to pretend to be unconscious, but all the dust in the place is getting to me and I let out a sneeze.
“Oh. She’s awake,” Charlotte mutters.
She starts walking towards me. This is it, the high danger time for a bound captive like myself. It’s also time to see if the half-assed plan I’ve concocted will work. It’s clear that the sister’s priority is her own name and career aspirations, and if necessary, she’ll throw her brother under the bus if it works to her advantage.
With a flick of her hand in my direction, she tells him, “Untie her, Roger. What in the world were you thinking of, tying her to a chair like she’s a captive? She’s our guest.”
Guest?
Roger reluctantly comes over and cuts the ropes with a box cutter as Charlotte takes a seat across from me on a stool. She’s carrying a wine bottle and oversized wine glass. She probably thinks the wide smile on her face makes her look friendly. Since I know pretty much everything about their dark deeds, her smile is nothing less than terrifying. I’m also pretty sure that whatever is in that bottle, it’s not something I want to drink.
Her partner in crime takes up a protective stance behind her with his arms crossed. He’s trying to look tough but is clearly even more terrified than I am. They seem poised to play good cop, bad cop, but I already know Charlotte is the one who engineered this situation.
I rub my wrists trying to get the feeling back into my hands.
“It doesn’t have to be this way, Emily,” Charlotte says, trying to sound reasonable. “If you cooperate, we can both get what we want.”
Charlotte smiles like she expects me to say yes. She pours wine from the bottle in her hand. It’s a dark, rich red. The label looks vintage. I realize this woman is so out of touch with reality that she’s using a bottle of wine that costs more than my first car as a delivery mechanism for poison. Maybe she thinks a commoner like me won’t be able to resist the good stuff. Something about it is so starkly evil it catches me by surprise.
She comes to her feet, takes a step forward, and leans down slightly, holding it out to me with both hands. If I didn’t know better, this might seem like an actual offering of hospitality.
